The Dream Machine

Eleven

SANDLER

I sprung out of a bed, gasping. George was standing next to me, screaming. "What's going on?" I demanded, "Where am I?"

"Oh my gosh! You're back!" George wrapped me in a huge hug. It was immediately awkward.

"How long was I out?" I asked. 

George answered, "Oh, only about eight hours." 

"Eight hours?! I thought that when I went into a dreamscape, time stopped."

"Well, obviously that information was false." 

"You never told me where I was." 

"You're at Frederick's house!" George exclaimed, waving his arms to compliment the room. It was a basement, from what I could tell. There was a bed across the room from me and another one on the back wall, where Frederick lay asleep. 

"What's Frederick up to?" I gestured to his unconscious body.

George sat on the edge of the bed, "He went looking for you. Sandler, you were basically in a short-lived coma. Where were you?"

"I wasn't in a dreamscape, that's for sure. Apparently, somehow, someway, I had entered my subconscious." I stated. 

"Okay, I know that what has already happened goes past the reaches of science, but this just doesn't add up."

"I know!" I jumped out of the bed and started pacing, "When I went in, I was floating in gray clouds. It was trippy. Then, memories started playing in front of my eyes, like a movie. I controlled what I saw, but it just went by so fast."

"What memories did you see?"

"Uh, the day my parents lost their job, just important stuff." I breathed.

But George knew what I didn't wanna tell him, "You relived that preschool moment again, didn't you?"

"Yes," I replied, "all my episodes with Lizzie did stick out from the rest."

"How many memories do you think you saw?"

"At least, 80?" I murmured, now George was pacing. 

FREDERICK

The silence continued. My pulse quickened. With every passing breath, I thought they would kill me, whoever they were. They wouldn't say anything, leaving me to stare into the darkness. Then suddenly, light flooded the room. An old man with brown, graying hair stood in front of me. He was in a gray business suit, the kind that made him look like a professional. Behind him, were two guards, both had earpieces dangling from ears.

"Who are you?" I choked, horror was stricken across my face. No one else was supposed to be part of the Consciousness. I had looked far and wide in my dreamscapes and this had never happened.

"My name is Bob," the business suit man proclaimed. 

My fear disappered, "Come on, your name isn't Bob. That's too generic of a name."

"Exactly, Frederick. Why would I tell you my real name?"

"How do you know my name?" I got to my feet. 

"Oh, I know just as much about you as you do about Sandler. Heck, I even know everything about Sandler."

"Do you have him? If you hurt him..." I bounded towards him and launched my fist towards his jaw, but my fists stopped within millimeters of his face. A small, shrill pain entered my brain. It felt as if my brain was squeezing inside my cranium. The feeling was uncontainable. My knees buckled and I fell to the ground. The pain stopped and I clutched my stomach. 

"Remember, I can do anything in a dreamscape." he continued, without losing a beat, "It seems that you know Sandler's abilities, too. You see, he isn't like you or me. I know it sounds cliche, but he's special. He has powers that overtake both of ours combined, and you know that."

"I still don't know who you are, and how you got in here." I gasped, trying to regain my footing as I stood up again. 

"You thought it was just you and Sandler?" he beamed, "You naive little boy."

"I'm an adult!" I scoffed. The feeling resumed. "STOP!" I yelled. 

"Then, answer me this. Does Sandler know how to use his powers?" he questioned.

"NO!" I shrieked. The pain was increasing with each minute, every second, every breath, "I'M TRYING TO TEACH HIM!"

"That's just great." he exhaled, sarcastically, "I need him strong to defeat my enemies." 

I looked up at him, sweat flooding my face, tears falling down my throat, "What do you want him for?" 

"I want him to change the world."